Stalking Hiwatari
by Libretto
Summary: He’s perfection personified, but she has to prove otherwise. She has a month to uncover a scandal in Kai’s life, or she’ll lose the job of her dreams.
1. It begins

**Stalking Hiwatari**

**By Libretto**

**Summary:** He's perfection personified, but she has to prove otherwise. She has a month to uncover a scandal in Kai's life, or she'll lose the job of her dreams.

**Chapter One**

_A man in love schemes more than a thousand lawyers - old Spanish Proverb_

'Profits have gone steadily downhill for the last six months,' Johnny said gloomily as he dropped into the opposite seat. 'We barely sold seven thousand copies this time. _Seven thousand_ – I mean, how pathetic is that?!'

So pathetic it couldn't even be labelled pathetic anymore. People might as well have stopped buying the magazine for all that number represented.

'I know …' Riana sighed. 'There aren't any stories.'

Johnny's eyes narrowed. 'Correction!' he snapped. 'There are stories; _you_ people have been letting the Herald snap them all up! We've lost nearly all our readers to them.' He leant back in the chair, rifling through the latest issue of the Herald. 'Look at this,' he added, showing Riana the newspaper. '"_Enrique's latest catch_" – why don't we have some juicy scandal like this?'

Riana took the Herald and stared at the mug shot of Enrique dismally. 'Because he's my friend and I know the real story.' she answered.

Johnny wasn't moved. 'Yes, and what a boring story it is too. Nevertheless, at the moment, it is the only story we have for publishing. Let's see what you can do, alright?'

Riana sighed and twirled her pen. 'Look, isn't there anything else …?'

Johnny shrugged. 'You've got to learn to write about people you know sometime, Riana.' And then, seeing her wince, he relented, 'Alright well, I can give you that other article that I was going to ask MingMing to do.'

Riana's face brightened immediately. 'I'll take it. What did you have in mind?'

'At the risk of sounding idiotic: the most popular story we've written since the mag started.'

There was a pause. Riana frowned. 'And what kind of story do you expect to be that popular? I mean, this is a gossip magazine. Sorry, human interest,' she added laughingly, catching Johnny's expression, 'There are no celebrity scandals happening at the moment. No new boyfriends or girlfriends we should be looking out for. The only stories we can write are on the has-beens … who, let's face it, aren't that popular. Unless you want to do a profile of some up-and-coming actor?'

Johnny grinned at that. 'Oh, close. Actually, I did want to do a profile … on Kai Hiwatari.'

This didn't gain the magnificent reception he was expecting. Riana rolled her eyes and tugged her curly ponytail forward. 'Well, it'll get publicity.' She said dryly. 'Too bad we have no news on Prince Charming.'

'No, no,' Johnny shook his head, laughing. 'This profile is different.'

'Yeah, but what kind of story could I write about him that would attract such major attention? There've been a few stories about him in the mag before.' Riana said sceptically, propping her elbow on the armrest. 'MingMing's story on his new hair last month … _"Kai's Shampoo Blues",_ for example – _"how _does_ he manage those awesome colours?"' _

'Ah,' Johnny answered, narrowing his eyes. 'But I have a very special assignment for you. I want you to prove that kai Hiwatari… is a jerk.' And he leaned back to savour the effect of his words.

Riana looked flabbergasted. 'Well,' she said after a moment. 'I can't say I saw that one coming. I suppose when you thought that up, you didn't actually consider the fact that he's "perfection personified" according to MingMing. More syllables I've not heard out of her mouth.'

'Bah, who believes that?' Johnny scoffed, 'No one's perfect!'

'John, this _is_ Hiwatari. He was brought up to be more perfect than most.' Riana pointed out. There was a familiar spark in her eyes however, and she was smiling. 'It won't be the most original article we've printed.'

'Yes, _but_, no one would ever expect an attack on Hiwatari.'

'Riana looked almost as excited to begin as Johnny felt. 'But what if there isn't a scandal? What if he really is all they make him out to be?' But her heart was obviously not in her objections. Johnny didn't have to answer. They both knew there was something they could uncover about the seemingly perfect Hiwatari. Something nobody had seen – there had to be.

No one was perfect.

---

'You do realise that all this is slightly immoral?' Mariah asked over her mug of coffee. Riana stirred her hot chocolate with a straw and frowned. Usually she was the first person to object when Johnny published a highly personal or insulting article in his magazine, and Mariah was surprised that she had nothing to say about this.

'Well,' Riana sighed, concentrating on melting a particularly stubborn pink marshmallow. 'I'd have to do it sometime.' Her frown deepened. That pink marshmallow was refusing to melt. 'Every newspaper does it to some extent. Magazines more than most. And it _is_ a challenge.'

Mariah sipped her coffee, maintaining her disapproving expression. She knew when Riana was lying, and she definitely knew that if Riana weren't terribly uncomfortable with the situation now, she would be when she uncovered the "big scandal" and had to publish it.

'It's hard,' Riana admitted finally. 'I've been thinking about it. I won't uncover anything by asking people about him – they would only betray him for the world, and I'm not _that_ rich. He comes from an influential family so there'd be articles about him somewhere – but mostly praise, I'm thinking. So the only option I can see at the moment is finding out from him myself.'

Mariah's eyebrows shot up. 'You're going to befriend him so that you can stab him in the back?'

Riana's head whipped up. 'No!' she cried. 'That's not what I meant. I'm going to …' she looked around then leaned over the table to whisper, 'I'm going to follow him.'

Mariah stared. 'You? Stalk Hiwatari?'

Riana sipped her hot chocolate with a smile. The pink marshmallow had vanished. 'Stalking might be the wrong word for it.'

'You do understand that you could be charged for this, don't you?' Mariah asked. Riana put down her empty mug. 'Mariah, the thing about being charged for something is that you have to get caught doing it first.'

Mariah buried her face in her hands. 'Oh, dear me …' she muttered. Riana ignored her, looking pointedly out of the window. 'Riana, you said yourself that Hiwatari is from an influential family. There are going to be serious consequences for this. How do you know those friends of his aren't actually plainclothes bodyguards –'

'Mariah,' Riana grinned, cocking her head. 'It's not that big a deal. Hiwatari is, above all, a businessman. This is just business.'

--

Please review!


	2. Eight days

Chapter Two. Overdue.

(Sorry!)

* * *

The first - and only - thing she had discovered in these eight days was that Hiwatari was a very dull man. 

_Tap, tap, tap_.

He woke up regularly at six-thirty, went for a half-hour jog in the park outside his small mansion. He would then return, dress, eat a simple breakfast – often this was simply a mug of coffee, a worrying fact – and leave at precisely 7:45 am to drive to work. He was, after all, heir and CEO of an extensive business corporation. As far as she could ascertain, he remained inside his office on the 32nd floor of the main premises of Hiwatari Corp and didn't leave even for lunch break until 7 pm at the earliest – one of the more original lunch periods she had come across in her four years in journalism. Many times she found herself waiting for him to simply leave the building until 10.

_Tap, tap, tap._

After leaving work, he usually went back to his home, where he remained until midnight every night sipping a glass of wine and flipping through various papers piled on his desk or making phone calls. Unless, of course, he was expected to attend a function – an event which occurred frustratingly often.

Frustrating, because she so far had no means of attending said functions, and because Kai Hiwatari simply refused to give her a swift end to this painful story: he wouldn't flirt with any woman (as far as she could tell), remained strictly professional at all times, never once became the slightest bit tipsy or took anyone – male or female – home.

_Tap, tap, tap._

In fact, apart from during office hours and said functions, and notwithstanding paid servants, Kai Hiwatari had associated with not a single person in the entire time that she'd been watching him.

_Tap, tap, tap. _

Riana stared out of the window, tapping her pen crossly on the sheet of paper before her, and cushioning her chin in her palm. Had the man no life whatsoever? It frustrated her beyond belief. The only indulgence he ever allowed himself was that one glass of wine.

Admittedly, eight days ... it wasn't much. But considering she only had a month, it was more time than she could afford.

She grinned a bit when she heard how she was thinking. For eight days now she had been waking up at an ungodly hour of the morning to spy on him during his morning jogs. She usually sat on a park bench with the clichéd, but ever useful, newspaper tactic, watching him narrowly as he ran. She had even, once, attempted to copy him and jog herself, only to sprawl onto the bench after three minutes, wheezing desperately. Yes, as much as following him at a closer distance would be advantageous, the pain it caused her was simply not worth it.

Mariah's boyfriend had been enlisted to the cause after Riana's furious research had uncovered that he owned the house a street parallel to Hiwatari's. From the top floor window, she could see every twitch that Hiwatari made in front of his own windows. Whenever he was at home, she watched him avidly, squinting through the impressive lens in her Canon.

Despite her best efforts, however, it had all been in vain. He was elusive, boring, _frustrating._ She glared out the window of the little cafe unseeingly, fighting the powerful urge to grind her teeth. There must be something. There had to be something! He wasn't some businessman with no life, he was an heir, he was a CEO, he was rich, he was handsome ... these were _facts!_

Accordingly, she took up her pen and wrote them all out on the sheet of paper, in capitals and underlined.

And these _facts_ could not lead to _nothing!_

Was there a woman? Or a man, possibly? A love-child? A torrid affair?

No. Too easy. She wouldn't degrade herself by writing trash like that anyway.

Blackmail? It was said that he was on very friendly – i.e. beneficial – terms with several successful businessmen and politicians ... hmm. Blackmail was always possible. But then again, Hiwatari would be too intelligent to leave obvious clues about, and proving that he was blackmailing someone – or being blackmailed – could only be done by a close look at his private documents. And, she laughed inwardly, that was hardly likely to happen. She may be a reporter, but she hadn't sunk to house-breaking yet.

Note: _yet_.

Did he have a habit of violence? A secret assault case? She had seen for her own eyes his boring routine. You've got to watch the quiet ones, her mind snickered.

Actually, that wasn't a half bad idea either. Kai Hiwatari might be classified as Repressed; and everyone knew what happened to repressed people when they decided to rebel ... she chuckled maliciously to herself and took delicious delight in writing this point down.

But in all honesty, when she got to the bare bones of it, Kai Hiwatari had given her absolutely nothing to go on. All she had was speculation. There wasn't even the faintest hint of something wrong – anything wrong, no matter how small. But she refused to give up and believe that Hiwatari could possibly be as pretty as he was painted. No, there must be something ...

And with that thought in mind, Riana pushed her chair back, stuffed the pen and paper into her satchel and exited the small cafe, thinking furiously. Two blocks away was the building where Hiwatari worked. Did she know anyone else who worked there? No? Yes? Time to call in some favours.

* * *

"You want me to do what?" Rei asked tiredly, resting his cheek on his knuckles and staring at her. Riana smiled back, and pushed the cup of coffee over the table as a sort of peace offering. He at least had the manners not to refuse the gift, cupping the cup in his other hand while he attempted to stare her down.

"I really need to get into this Dance, Rei. I haven't learnt anything from following the guy at fifty metres – I need to get in at closer range. You know, see who he talks to ... how he talks to them ... I'm not going to get a story the way I'm going. I need to hear what Hiwatari is saying." She explained, trying to look as mature and responsible as possible. Rei wasn't buying it.

"Your editor can't get you clearance?" he asked wryly. She shook her head. Johnny did have two tickets – unfortunately, the second was not for her. He gave a sigh and took a sip of the coffee.

"Look," she attempted again. "I know you're going, and you were planning on taking Mariah. I'm just asking if you can take me too – I won't get in your way, I promise. I won't get in anyone's way. I'll dress nicely, I'll behave myself, I won't drink ... and I won't pester Hiwatari." It pained her to do this, really, but it was for the best after all.

The Hiwatari Corp was holding possibly its biggest function of the year exactly one week from now. It had just signed a deal with the Blue Dragons soccer team, and donated a generous amount of money to the White museum – thanks to which, the White museum had been able to find the funds it needed to host its new Asian Art exhibition – as a result, the three parties had pitched in together and were holding a highly prestigious and exclusive (unfortunately) event to celebrate.

This was where Rei Kon came in – as a specialist in Asian artefacts at the Museum – and luckily, with access to one extra ticket. Riana took a sip of her own tea and watched him anxiously. After a moment, Rei sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and leaned back.

"On the condition that you go as the date of my co-worker. His name's Takao Kinomiya – he's a nice guy, promise. A bit too enthusiastic for my taste, but then, you're the one who has to put up with him."

Riana beamed. "Thank you so –"

"But," Rei interrupted, holding up a hand. "Promise me one thing."

There was a pause.

"What is it?" she asked cautiously.

"Promise me you won't cosy up to Hiwatari and then throw this story in his face. There are only a few people in this world who deserve a fate like that, and he isn't one of them." He frowned at her, sternly.

Riana nodded. "Cross my heart."

He nodded also, and picked up the coffee cup. "Alright, I'll see what I can do."

* * *

"I'm just imagining," Mariah began, leaning back in her seat and pinning Riana under her gaze, "Being Kai Hiwatari exactly twenty-three days from now."

Riana circled 'blackmail' on the paper under her elbow and made a noncommittal sound.

"Yes." Mariah continued unrelentingly. "I'd be feeling a sharp stabbing pain in the back."

"Mm ..." Riana grunted, then paused. "What?"

"Did I stutter?" her friend questioned coldly.

Riana frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Exactly eight days ago, you promised me that you weren't going to get close to Hiwatari. You understood that befriending him would mean _stabbing him in the back_ once you published this article. _You_," she stabbed her lacquered nails at her for extra emphasis, "Lied. You've gone back on your word. You've betrayed the sacred trust between friends, _and _you are not sorry." And she glared.

Riana tapped her fingers together and stared up at the ceiling. "I'm not?" she offered. Mariah's glare did not decrease in intensity. "Okay, okay." She laughed nervously, and held up her hands as a peace gesture. "I did promise. And I do intend to keep that promise."

Mariah made an incredulous snorting noise.

"No, really." Riana insisted. "I'm only going to follow him. He's a big-wig anyway, it's not like I have an excuse to talk to him – I'm not going as a journalist tonight, I'm meant to be enjoying myself."

"But you're going to use the information you get from listening to him talk." Mariah said.

"Well, yes." She admitted reluctantly.

"So while you're not technically meant to be gathering info tonight, you are anyway." Mariah said.

"Mm..." Riana grunted vaguely.

The metaphorical ice dripping from Mariah's mouth seemed to materialise in mid-air and fall, tinkling somewhat, onto the table.

"Look, this is a feature article! What am I meant to do? I have to talk to the person I'm interviewing _sometime_, if only to tell him that I am, in fact, writing an article on him." Riana cried, leaning forward earnestly and looking at her friend with the largest, sincerest eyes she could manage.

Mariah looked unimpressed.

"You'll be there keeping an eye on me anyway." Riana sulked. "If you can tear away from Rei, anyway."

"Hrnn." She said, turning away.

But Riana was relieved to notice the small smile on her face.

There was one week to go until the Dance.

Riana spent it dividing her time between ducking into stores to glance at the dresses and surveying Hiwatari in the park. When she wasn't on the phone explaining (once again) to Mariah why, exactly, she couldn't just ask Hiwatari about his deepest darkest secrets to publish in her article.

She glanced at the notebook in her hand – _Hiwatari only child – no chance of familial problems – but on friendly terms with cousin who owns European branch of Hiwatari Corp _– and then back at the dress she had picked off the rack.

Lime green. Sequins. Tacky. But would ... bring out her eyes?

She grabbed another. Black. Formal. Low-cut. Would make her look pale. Low-cut ...

Riana shoved it back, frowning. Was there nothing that wasn't tacky or ridiculously exposing in the shop? She fingered a lock of hair thoughtfully – she could try something brown to match, although she'd much rather prefer gold or silver – or orange (her favourite colour). The only question was, she didn't want to stand out too much. Blending into the dowdy businessmen and gaudy businessmen's wives would be ideal – or would be, if she wanted to look dowdy or gaudy.

Wincing, Riana left the shop and looked around for a different one. The forget-me-not-blue dress in the window of that one didn't look too bad. Classy (thank heavens), bias-cut, just below the knee. Flowing, nice colour. Perfect for a black-tie evening – she was only a journalist, after all. And maybe that silver scarf of Mariah's. Fine. Good. Sorted.

She could now get back to stalking.

Er. One-sided interviewing. Right.'

* * *

Please review. God bless.

* * *


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